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The Enhancer series Box Set

Page 21

by Wyatt Kane


  “It stands to reason, doesn’t it?” she asked. “If we get two hundred customers in one night and just one hundred the next, we can’t expect to get the same return, can we?”

  Deb spoke as if talking to a rational person. Her words were logical and the way she expressed herself was completely inoffensive. Yet it was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Angie the Hutt shifted her bulk so she could face Deb more directly. Then the loathsome woman swelled like a toad sucking in air, preparing to croak.

  “Did you hear me ask for your opinion?” Angie screamed, her broad mouth a straight line filled with rancor and disgust. “Do you think I give a rat’s ass about your opinion?”

  The look on Angie’s face might have been mistaken for anger that the serving girl dared to speak out of turn. Yet there was a hint of relish in it as if Angie actively enjoyed the opportunity to berate the poor serving girl.

  Ty had seen that expression many times before. She had used it on him as well, whenever he had been foolish enough to say something, often in his own defense, that contradicted Angie’s view of the world. He pitied the serving girl and knew that many of his co-workers did as well. It didn’t matter that what she said was correct. All that mattered was Angie’s perspective.

  “Um,” Deb started, but that was as far as she got.

  “Because I do not!” Angie said. “You have been with us for what, three weeks? Do you think that gives you the right to have an opinion? Because I’ll tell you right here and now, sweetheart, it does not!”

  Perhaps Deb was a little slow on the uptake. Angie was at her repulsive, unreasonable worst. She had positioned her unnecessary bulk mere inches from the younger woman, her chins quivering in righteous anger and her eyes flashing dangerously in the dim club light. Most others would have backed away if only to introduce some distance between themselves and Angie. But Deb stood her ground. She looked more puzzled than afraid, and largely unconcerned by Angie’s closeness.

  “But–” she began.

  “But nothing!” Angie overrode her. “Your three weeks here entitles you to obey my commands and no more than that! If I tell you to do something, you do it. No back chat, no second-guessing, nothing. So, if I tell you that sales on drinks are down this week and it is your responsibility to bring them back up, that is what you will do!”

  As one, the Club staff glared at Angie with eyes full of hate, at the same time as glancing at Deb with expressions of sympathy. But Angie was as immune to that hate as she was to the idea of positive, normal relationships with her staff.

  As for Ty, a week ago, he would have felt uncomfortable and powerless just being in the room. He would have done all he could to shrink into a corner, or otherwise hide from Angie’s gaze for fear it might land on him.

  But he had changed a lot since then. Thanks to the cybernetic device clasping his wrist hidden beneath his shirt sleeve, not only was he taller and stronger, but he was more capable and confident as well.

  Ty had awakened a skill within himself that had the potential to change everything. He had joined a real-life superhero team, faced real villains (one of them superpowered), and walked out alive.

  Perhaps just as importantly for his sense of self worth, he had formed meaningful relationships with not one, but two of the most spectacular woman he’d ever known.

  Tempest Flaire and Dinah Lore. The other two members of his superhero team. Tempest was fiery and passionate, and Dinah was the soul of warmth and elegance, and each of them was beautiful enough that they should have been well out of Ty’s league.

  In his old roommate’s vernacular, Ty hadn’t just leveled up. He’d changed class entirely. His character in the game of life had gone from about a level-two loser to a level-six hero, and it might have been even better if it weren’t for the fact that he still needed this crummy job.

  And it wasn’t just the trappings of life he counted. As well as his newfound strength and confidence, as well as the woman who had come into his life, Ty felt different as well. For the first time ever, he could step back from the situation he found himself in and look at it objectively.

  He sympathized with Deb as Angie continued to hurl insults and abuse her way. He felt the wash of sympathy and dislike that flooded the room. Yet at the same time, it was meaningless. A tiny drama that had no real impact any more.

  Ty had faced life and death. Even now, Bain was still out there. As was the mysterious teleporter, and whoever it was who was pulling their strings. Worse, the villains knew where Tempest and Dinah lived. Even now, Bain’s cohorts could be planning another attack, and Ty was stuck at work at the Concubine Club.

  Ty knew that Tempest was stronger than he was. She was the better bet to defend both women against any attack. Yet the danger was real, and Ty hadn’t been happy to leave them to potentially face it alone.

  It was a reality that put things into perspective. No drama Angie conjured could possibly compare to real, life-or-death danger. So instead of shrinking into a corner, Ty stayed where he was and let the various petty hates and power posturing drift over him like a breeze on a summer’s day.

  “You have been here only for such a short time and you’re already getting on my bad side,” Angie was saying. “Let me tell you, you’re not smart enough or pretty enough or valuable enough to survive here very long. Just remember, like the rest of you, I can replace you in a heartbeat. Think about that next time you want to say something out of turn!”

  Ty realized he had missed part of the tongue lashing. His mind had been elsewhere entirely. No longer was Deb able to stand up to Angie’s wrath. The poor girl had nowhere to go, but she looked like she would have run if she could. Her face had crumpled, and she was trying hard not to cry.

  Angie’s expression was one of gloating and triumph.

  Ty didn’t even think. He didn’t consciously decide to say anything. But the words came out just the same.

  “Leave her alone,” he blurted. “Can’t you tell she’s had enough?”

  2: Everyday Heroism

  Several things happened all at once. The atmosphere in the room changed from sympathy to a kind of relief. It was as if Ty had voiced what was on everyone else’s mind to say. Someone actually barked a laugh. And Angie spun as swiftly as her slug-like bulk would allow.

  “Who said that?” she demanded.

  Ty knew that speaking up to someone like Angie was not a career enhancing move. The toad-woman was vindictive and mean, and much of her bulk was made up of spite. He also knew that his own role within the Club was fragile enough that he should keep his mouth shut.

  Yet he couldn’t help himself. He didn’t enjoy seeing people suffer for no reason.

  “I did,” he said. He figured that at the very least, he could draw Angie’s venom to himself rather than Deb.

  “You!” Angie said. Her voice was filled with real glee. Her usual sneer turned into an approximation of a smile. It was as if she was truly delighted to have been gifted another target.

  Immediately forgetting the poor serving girl, Angie lumbered in Ty’s direction.

  Before, Ty might have given in to despair. He might have hung his head and just accepted his fate. But he had leveled up. Angie was not even a minor boss in the game he was playing. And yet, she still had power over him. He still needed his crappy job.

  “If my eyes do not deceive me,” Angie said, her voice filled with glee. “Ty Wilcox, the latest in a steady stream of cannonballs to work in your position. The boy who is literally begging to be fired.”

  She came right up to Ty as she had done to Deb, her intimidation tactics not changing at all. She even giggled at her own joke, but Ty had heard it before. Cannonball. Something to be fired. Funny.

  Ty was twenty-six years old. Angie calling him a “boy” was intentionally demeaning.

  “Ty Wilcox, who thinks he can abandon his shift whenever he chooses without any consequence,” Angie continued. And in her mind, she was doubtless just telling the truth. Ty had left his shift halfwa
y through the previous evening. He and Tempest had set a trap for Bain and his men, but the monstrous villain had been a step ahead of them. Instead of stalking Ty at the Concubine Club, Bain had gone to the penthouse and captured Dinah.

  Instead of continuing his shift, Ty and Tempest had done all they could to secure Dinah’s return.

  “It was an emergency,” Ty said flatly. “I left a message. It was all I could do.” He would make the same choice again in a heartbeat if the situation recurred.

  It wasn’t enough to satisfy Angie’s malicious intent. “An emergency?” she barked. “What was it, did you leave your laundry out in the rain?” Angie’s voice was a condescending sneer.

  Ty couldn’t stifle his response. Even though this woman had power over him, he could no longer accept her nonsense. “If you must know, one of my girlfriends got kidnapped,” he said.

  Angie was confused. “One of your…?” she started. At the same time, a ripple of amusement went around the room. Angie became aware that she was losing the initiative and replaced her confusion with a snarl. “I don’t care what your reason might or might not have been,” she said. “All I care about is that it will not happen again. Do you understand me?”

  Ty could have told her that she didn’t get to define what constituted an emergency for him. He could have told her the truth, in that if Tempest or Dinah needed him, he would drop whatever he was doing to go to them. He could have even asked if she really expected him to value work over legitimate life and death situations.

  But he could see no value in any of that. He had achieved his purpose. Angie the Hutt was no longer picking on Deb. Nor did he want to escalate the conflict to the point where she might fire him for real.

  He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Angie loomed over him like a mountain of green jello. Her expression indicated that she thought him revolting, like a bug she found crawling over her shoe.

  Maybe she wanted to spit additional bile his way or threaten to fire him. Maybe she wanted him to beg for forgiveness.

  It didn’t matter. Whatever she wanted to say or do, she didn’t get the chance.

  “I’m sorry, Angie,” someone interrupted from behind her. “I think we may have a problem.”

  It was Martin, the DJ. A studious-looking man with thick glasses, the DJ had gone for luminescent tattoos in lieu of the more overt body mods that most seemed to favor. He was slim and completely bald, and it wasn’t normal for him to attend these staff meetings.

  Angie’s expression became one of pure fury and she spun about to face this new intrusion. Ty could tell at a glance that Martin was worried although he had no clue what it might be about.

  “What do you want?” Angie demanded. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?”

  Within the Concubine Club, Martin existed in a rare state of relative power. The Club was nothing special as far as clubs went. It was fairly spacious, with a number of rooms, and customers could order food and drink, dance, and play arcade and casino games if they wished. All fine as far as it went, but nothing to write home about.

  The one thing that drew the crowds was the music. Day in, day out, the Concubine Club pumped out a weird blend of ambient techno punk that filled every last corner of the place. Angie the Hutt knew as well as anyone that it was Martin who kept the music playing.

  As such, Martin was largely untouchable. The only person Angie deemed too important to lose.

  “Sorry, Angie. The system’s shat itself. Can’t get a peep out of it at all. Thought you’d like to know right away.”

  For a moment, it seemed she didn’t know how to respond. She just stood there, gaping at Martin as if he had told her that she needed to lose weight and the green color of her skin made her look awful.

  “It’s dead? Are you sure?”

  Martin nodded. He didn’t look happy about the situation. “Yeah. Started her up just like normal, and at first, all was good. Then the main mixer spat a bunch of sparks at me and let out a big cloud of smoke. It’s a wonder the fire alarm didn’t go off. I cracked her open, but it’s a mess in there. Circuit board is fried.” He shrugged. “I can replace a needle or a snapped turntable belt, but this is beyond me. We have to get someone in.”

  Despite Angie’s ongoing complaints, the club typically ran fairly smoothly. True calamities were few and far between, and when they happened, it quickly became apparent that Angie was out of her depth.

  She gaped at Martin as if she didn’t understand. Her natural instinct was to rage at a problem until it went away. But even she understood that raging at the DJ’s mixer wouldn’t bring it back to life.

  Nor would it be easy to get someone in. In a city like New Lincoln, it could take days to get anyone out to have a look. Weeks, even. Angie knew this as well as Ty did, so instead of offering a solution, she opened and closed her mouth a few times and flapped her arms like a chicken.

  It was almost enough to make Ty laugh out loud. He watched for a few seconds, then said quite clearly, “I can fix it.”

  Angie apparently hadn’t finished gaping. She turned the vacant expression on Ty and stared at him.

  “You can fix it?” she said.

  Ty shrugged. “Sure. If it can be fixed, I can do it,” he said.

  He could almost see the calculations taking place within Angie’s head. She stopped gaping and instead looked at him shrewdly. Her sneer was back in place.

  “You think you’re clever enough to fix a sound system without even seeing what’s wrong?”

  “I fix the gaming machines. And Martin said what happened. The mixer is fried. I might need to scavenge some parts, but like I said, if anyone can, I can fix it.”

  Slowly, Angie started to nod. Completely ignoring Martin’s hopeful expression and overlooking the rest of the staff as if they didn’t exist, Angie licked her lips. It was as if she had been offered an unexpected dessert that she was looking forward to consuming.

  “Okay,” she said. “You have your chance. Despite your insolence, if you get it working, you can keep your job.” Then her expression darkened so that her malevolence was clear for all to see. “But if you fail, if the sound system isn’t back up and running in good time, then you are done. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. Your lazy, good-for-nothing ass is out of here, and I never see your ugly face again. You got that?”

  Randomly, Ty found himself wondering at the source of Angie’s rancor. Had she suffered a lifetime of torment that she now felt she had to inflict on others? Or was she just a loathsome troll for no real reason?

  In the end, it didn’t really matter. All that mattered was that for the moment at least, he still had a job. And he didn’t have to suffer through the rest of the staff meeting.

  He stood up from his bar stool, and as he and Martin headed away, he distinctly heard Angie mutter, “Now that’s what I call a win-win.”

  3: Fried

  Ty could hear Angie resume berating the rest of the staff. She had recovered from her shock at Martin’s news and was back to dealing out her own particular brand of misery and spite. Ty was more than happy to leave them to it, but Martin was worried.

  “Sorry, man,” he said. “I might have just cost you your job. The system is totally screwed. I don’t see how it can be fixed.”

  Ty offered him a quick grin and kept walking. “Don’t write it off yet,” he said. “I have a bit of a knack for this type of thing.”

  He didn’t tell Martin that since he’d been wearing the device on his wrist, his “knack” had become something special. Through a process he could only partially understand, the device had analyzed Ty’s potential on a genetic and cellular level and had released thousands of nanites into his bloodstream.

  Those nanites had worked wonders. In the last few days, Ty had grown several inches taller. He had put on perhaps twenty pounds of muscle, and even his complexion had cleared up. He was now the best version of himself that his genetics enabled him to be.

  And that wasn’t
the end of it. Locked in his genetic code was a skill that elevated him beyond most others. Technological enhancement. He was still at a low level, but even that enabled him to work miracles.

  He had built a stun gun out of a toaster and parts of a microwave within twenty minutes. With the help of the tools in the Architect’s workshop, Ty had made improvements to the device itself. He had created a miniaturized energy converter that produced unlimited power, and he had modified a couple of blasters to give them a serious kick.

  He had also designed a mesh suit that projected an energy shield that could stand up to nearly anything. It was like his durability had been granted a boost. Instead of being made of flesh and bone, it was as if he was armored like a tank.

  Even now, he wore the mesh suit, complete with energy converters, under his shirt. And he had one of the blasters tucked down the back of his trousers. At a moment’s notice, he could bring both to bear.

  He could stand toe-to-toe against the superpowered villain Bain himself if he needed to do so.

  “You might need more than a knack,” Martin said. “You might need a miracle.”

  Ty just grinned.

  Instead of heading directly to the DJ’s booth, Ty went to the janitor’s closet to pick up his tools, as well as a box full of broken game parts and wires he had collected during his time at the Club. That done, he turned to Martin, who was looking at him with a quizzical expression.

  “Have you changed something?” Martin asked. “You look different, somehow.”

  Ty had been getting many comments like that over the last few days. He just shrugged. “I’ve been working out a bit is all,” Ty replied. Martin continued to frown at him, still uncertain. “Come on,” Ty said. “Let’s see what you’ve done to your setup.”

  ◆◆◆

  Martin’s booth was in the Club’s main room. Although, “booth” wasn’t entirely accurate as a description. It was more a nook, an alcove, a section of the floor that had been commandeered by the DJ and his equipment.

 

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